Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

  This wasn’t supposed to happen, this isn’t how it goes! He always wins! Voi wasn’t supposed to lose.

  Zim was severely damaged, an awfully pink liquid oozing from the cracks in his shell. The God Tamer stood before voix, looking at the fallen bug with triumph. The Fools in the crowd were booing, disappointed that a bug from the moth tribe couldn’t have been more powerful. Especially one from the Irken [Armada]. Zim was terrified. What would The Tallest think of him now, losing in a measly battle with inferior bugs?

  The lights were blinding, the Fool's incomprehensive words crowding Zim's mind. The smooth shells of fallen bugs that made up the walls now felt broken, digging into the moth's form.

  Without a second thought, voi bolted out of the Colosseum. He unsheathed his PAK legs and ran through Kingdom’s Edge. Voix had a vague idea of where a bug he deemed worthy of being under voix control was. He just needed to make it there in time.

  Zim was beginning to falter in his steps. Why did the Howling Cliffs have to be so Tallest damned far away? The Resting Grounds were foggy, adding to its already eerie atmosphere. The intricate structures and abandoned masks scattered the ground, and the humid air made it difficult to breathe.

  Carefully climbing over Blue Lake, Zim had made his way into the City of Tears, a region with a similar atmosphere to The Resting Grounds. Plain water regularly wept from above. It was a wonder how the City hadn’t been flooded yet. Delicate yet complex patterns made up of buildings now seemed empty and lifeless, the design becoming more of a memory for what it used to be.

  As voi made his way through the City of Tears, voi was suddenly tackled to the ground. It was that stupid , disgustingly persistent , pathetic excuse for a moth.

  “WHAT DO YOU WANT??!” Zim yelled at Dib, startling the other. Zim sounded completely pissed off and looked as if he was going to kill Dib at any given moment. Zim's claws dug into the masked moth's cloak, slightly ripping it. Star stuttered quite a bit, intimidated by the murderous look Zim possessed.

  “Well, I k-kinda thought that– Well, y’know… you’re evil and stuff and… I dunno? I guess I– I guess I thought that you were like, plotting something or whatever…” Dib stumbled through distorts sentence as Zim glared even harder, a low hiss emanating from him the more the moth fumbled.

  “Nothing Zim is doing is any of your concern. Be gone, Dib-beast!” Zim still had a death grip on the other's cloak despite his words, voix PAK legs back in motion. Dib had a feeling of where this was going, his eyes widening and legs starting to kick. Although Zim's energy was dwindling, he continued carrying Dib from the City of Tears to Greenpath.

  Carefully positioning the both of them over a pit of green bubbling acid, Zim lowered Dib agonizingly close to the liquid below. Zim’s PAK legs shook as they were barely able to hold up both Zim and Dib’s weight in such a weakened state. The masked moth desperately clawed at Zim’s arms for leverage, flapping stars wings uselessly. The acid sparkled as light fluttered through the ceiling, making it seem almost harmless.

  “Zim, please, this will be worse for the both of us if you do this! My dad would kill you in a heartbeat if he found out,” Dib pleaded. Zim sneered in response, loosening his shaky grip on the other moth's cloak. The acid bubbled threateningly, making Dib panic even more.

  “Your dad doesn’t care, Dib.” Distort stopped fighting, his antennae hanging limply as Zim continued. “No one does, the only thing this will harm is you.” The acid let off a green glow, surrounding the two bugs. With the way the lighting was positioned, one could mistake Zim as glowing.

  Dib stared at the other for a moment. “W-why though? Why now?!” star questioned. Zim never gave the moth a reply, simply dropping the other before quickly scurrying off to the Howling Cliffs, not even soaking in Dib’s horrific screams echoing through the tunnels.



  Zim's injury had already started healing when he made it to Haus’ tent. Pink blood stained voix uniform, his fur was a mess, and voix PAK legs were barely holding up. His form collapsed and voix PAK legs drew back, leaving him to crawl to the tent entrance. Exhaustion had caught up to voix, leaving him to call out to Haus the best voi could. Although in reality, it just sounded like a strangled chitter.

  It took a while for Haus to exit his tent, and by then GIR and Minimousse had located Zim. Lifting the tent door, Haus was greeted with a passed-out Zim, a sleeping GIR tucked under Zim’s arm, and an ominous floating purple shell.

  Sighing, the dark purple bug carefully lifted Zim with two of his many arms, before placing GIR onto Zim's torso. The weird floating bug(?) followed Haus as he made his way inside his tent. Fixing Zim up was a time-consuming job and one he had to do far too often.

  Clean the blood, map out the injury, make a shell mimic as a stand-in, wait for it to heal halfway, and repeat.

  As Haus was hunched over a different desk carving out a mimic for Zim’s shell, GIR awoke from his slumber and instantly jumped on top of Haus, startling the bigger bug.

  “Holy Radiance, can you not?!” Haus exclaimed as GIR started crawling all over him.

  “EHEHHEHEHEHH!!!” GIR giggled maniacally, wriggling its way under Haus’ top cloak. Haus clicked disapprovingly but continued on his work, trying to ignore the sound of GIR’s claws most definitely ripping his coat.

  Haus was still unsure why Zim chose him as a “servant.” He doesn’t like voix, he purposely sends the small moth on dumb missions in hopes he dies, and he never listens to voix. The only reason Haus even bothered with the stupid bug was for something to do. He wouldn’t go back to the Grimm Troupe, and Radiance knows what would happen if the Irken [Armada] found out he was still alive.

  Zim was simply a pass of time, an entertainment of sorts. It was the only reason he kept voix alive.

  “You’re so boring colored!” GIR screeched as he scurried out of Haus’ cloak. “Imma gets some yummy paints!!” the little disturbance yelled as it scurried out of his tent.



  Sometime later, Haus had attached the mimic to Zim’s injury and wrapped some bandages around the area to hold it in place. By the time that was done, Zim had awoken, only to be hounded with Minimousse wanting affection and Haus reprimanding voix.

  “I can’t fix every injury you have, Zim,” Haus ranted, pacing around the crowded tent. “My knowledge in the medical field is as basic as it gets.”

  “You’re the only one who won’t… tell everyone about this.”

  “About what?”

  “Getting help? Obviously,” Zim barred his teeth and hugged Minimousse.

  “You Irkens and your stupid standards mean nothing to me, they don’t affect me anymore.” Zim visibly perked up at ‘anymore’ and looked over to Haus expectantly. Haus, however, didn’t catch on. “Obtaining a helpful hand isn’t– It doesn’t make you lesser, and it never will.”

  “But–” Zim started, before getting interrupted by GIR barreling into the tent, mini paint buckets in hand. The majority of the paint spilled all over the floor, making Haus’ eye twitch.

  “Yous gonna be all preeettyyyy,” GIR giggled, bouncing over to Haus excitedly. Said bug was slowly backing away, not wanting to be covered in mystery colors and patterns.

  Zim swung voix legs over the side of the table, sitting up straight. “It’s no use, Haus. Just let GIR… do his thing.”

  Haus groaned as GIR clambered up his cloak to reach his fur. Splashing paint on one of the many dreads, GIR went away with decorating it. Minimousse joined in as well, being much less chaotic with his choice of design.

  Haus was a little more than tentative about the weird void tendril coming out of the floating creature, and that thing going anywhere near him was even worse. But it seemed that the odd creature was harmless enough, merely painting what looked to be a starry pattern on another dread of Haus’.

  Haus could already sense how disgustingly crusty and dry this would make his fur, his hand clenching as GIR splattered on a second coat.

  Sighing, the bigger bug sat down, deciding to let the manic creatures do whatever they wanted to his fur.

  “You never usually pass out, Zim, why was it today that you did?” Haus questioned, glancing over at said bug.

  A low growl resonated from Zim, his claws digging into the table. “That stupid moth! His reasoning was so– and stars annoying voice as distort fumbled through– he’s so–” Zim tugged at voix hair, frustrated.

  “Calm down, Zim. You don’t have to say everything at once–”

  “I KNOW! I AM TRYING TO EXPLAIN!!” he interrupted, voix anger being fueled by Haus’ unintentionally condescending tone. GIR scuttled under Haus’ cloak, afraid that Zim would take it out on him. The atmosphere in the air shifted, a colder, more bitter one replacing it. The warm interior of the tent seemed to mute, leaving a harrowing silence in its place.

  Anger radiated off of Zim’s form, growing in intensity as voi hopped off the table and wobbled over to Haus. Clawing at Haus’ coat he snarled, “What I was trying to say was; I got injured, Dib interrupted me coming here, and I threw him into a lake of acid whilst he pleaded.”

  “Man, you sound goofy. Did you… did you actually throw Dib into a lake of acid?”

  “OF COURSE I DID!! You think so lowly of Zim for him to not do so?” Zim exclaimed, “Star is gone, who cares!”

  Haus paused for a moment, processing Zim’s words. Before he could question the offending moth, voix spun around and stomped out of the tent. Minimousse had to lure GIR out of his mock cocoon before they could also scurry out of the tent, leaving Haus alone in a tense atmosphere.

  The bug slowly got up, fixing up fallen items and cleaning his table. Once that was all said and done, that was when he noticed a shiny pin on Zim’s desk.

  Picking it up, it seemed to be a poorly made INVADER’s badge from the Irken [Armada].

  “Interesting, but not surprising.”

Chapter Text

  Dib swore his hearts skipped a beat the moment Zim let go. Flapping stars wings did nothing to slow distorts descend into the acid. Zim’s form blurred as the green moth sped off, not even sparing the other a moment of mocking laughter. The greens, blues, and the reflecting light of the acid all mushed together into one, the only thing the masked moth could register was the horrifically violent sting of pain that clouded distorts body when star fell beneath the surface of the liquid.

  He flailed helplessly, trying to reach the surface. Star felt so numb and heavy, as if something was pulling distort down. It felt like an eternity had passed before he was able to pull starself out, ungracefully flopping onto the grass and scurrying further and further away from the bubbling liquid.

  His shell was melting, the softer undershell raw and bleeding. Stars fur came out in clumps of melted black, pooling under the moth. Distorts glasses were gone, but this wasn’t the normal kind of blur he was used to without them. It was so much worse, puddles of black obscuring distorts vision no matter where star looked.

  His hearts raced as distorts brain processed that the acid had damaged his eyes as well. Stars entire body burned as if a bug held white-hot metal directly on his nerves. The screams Dib wasn’t even aware distort was making sputtered out, leaving stars throat worse than sore.

  Dry sobs left his lips as star curled into the grass, distorts body burning the entire way through. As a fleetingly desperate cry for help, he hoarsely called out for the other bug, a reason star wasn’t sure distort knew.

  But Zim was long gone, leaving Dib to continue crying and muttering incomprehensible apologies directed towards the green moth.

  He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed until star had stopped crying.



  Dib’s energy was long gone, replaced with the overwhelming want to sleep until everything went numb. The masked moth knew he couldn’t do that though, star had to get up eventually.

  The moth had a vague idea of where distort could help himself, with the only problem being it would take forever to get there. Regardless, star would get there eventually… or at least he hoped so. It was gonna be more than a little annoying trying to stay positive while on the verge of death, but distort could sure as hell try.

  Of course, Dib soon realized, he physically couldn’t move. A wave of panic washed over star — distort could very well die here. The acid had long since seeped into stars shell, and he felt the urge to start hopelessly crying again.

  Tiny steps interrupted Dib’s useless spiraling. He couldn’t make out anything from its figure, but the unmistakable shrill voice of that annoying creature Zim kept around told Dib exactly who it was.

  “HIII MARRRYY!!!! Yous look reeeallly raw!!” GIR screeched, poking at the moth's wounds.

  The masked moth didn’t have it in distort to speak, but star had it in him to cry. Although distorts eyes were very dry by this point, he still made a point of letting out hiccuping sobs.

  “Awueue yous aren’t leaking!! I can’t lick your yummy eye juice…” GIR sat down, dejected, not at all reading the situation. “Well anyway, buh bye marry!! I’s gotta get PAINTS!!!” The disturbance shrieked as it ran off, leaving Dib alone yet again.

  The moth kept drifting away from consciousness, a numb feeling taking over. He barely registered the splash of color, coating stars shell. Distant yells played, the vague brushes of grass around distorts body and the feeling of being dragged slowly pulling him back into reality.

  Star was only semi-conscious for the entire trip of being dragged from Greenpath. But his unsteady state soon shattered as he felt something cold being pricked into the softer part of distorts damaged shell. 

Chapter Text

  Everything felt heavy, with a mild buzzing of pain ringing throughout his body. Stars head was filled with fog that didn’t seem to be clearing up, leaving distort confused and dazed. He was vaguely aware of cloth wrapping circles around stars limbs, protecting something from outside elements. The sudden need to know where distort was appeared instantly. The only problem was he couldn’t see, there weren’t any lights present, and stars antennae weren’t… working?

  Regardless, the moth tried to evaluate distorts surroundings. Easier said than done, of course, considering all the things he could use to figure out where star was weren’t cooperating. Focusing distorts attention on mapping out the walls as best he could, star guessed distort was in some sort of tent. The scent surrounding him was familiar but metallic, for a reason that Dib couldn’t place.

  Star tried to get up but quickly realized that that wasn’t an option. Dib’s arms would barely respond to his brain's commands and distorts legs didn’t register it at all. Star hoped that it was purely just exhaustion or something similar, but that wouldn’t explain why he felt that way.

  Hissing, Dib tried to backtrack to before star woke up. Faint colors made up a sharp green, lots of green, with some added pinks and blues scattered about. There was a concentrated amount of pink and green near some parts of distorts recollection.

  A lot of noise followed the faraway memory, dialogue that he couldn’t decipher, the overwhelming hiss of a cold but burning liquid, it all felt like too much but too little at the same time. A fuzzy feeling coated the memories, leaving it disorienting to further remember.

  Something happened, something that hurt but Dib couldn’t place his finger on what. Laying there in the wrapping with stars mind spinning, Dib began to wonder if distort deserved this. He wasn’t even sure what would make star deserving of whatever ‘this’ was. Distort was sure that star was helped in one way or another, adding to this odd feeling of guilt in the back of his mind.

  Who would do such a thing?

  Distorts antennae hung low, further masking whatever noises or scents were present in the air. There was the occasional yet muffled droplet of water falling, or the unmistakable scent of chemicals –and by proxy stars father– clogging his senses.

  It caught up to Dib that distorts father was here, or at least used to be. That would explain who fixed star and where he was. Distorts voice came out in segments, weakly calling out a nervous, “Dad?” to the darkness that consumed the bug.

  He was met with complete silence, not even a faint hum of acknowledgment star usually got. Distort tried to call out again, but instead, all that came out was a pathetic strangled squeak.

  The dread of being alone and alarmingly vulnerable spiked anxiety in the moth's core. More panicked squeaks bubbled up from stars damaged throat, with thrashing around being out of the question.

  A sickeningly sugary yet metallic scent registered in Dib’s brain, the intensity of it overwhelming and suffocating. It was horrible, not only the scent but–

  “Dib-stink,” The retched green moth announced, careening over to the other. Looming over the moth, Zim gazed down at Dib, hazel eyes staring back in pure fear.

  Star wanted to cry, to scream, to run, for he didn’t know what Zim was planning. The most distort could guess was some sort of plan to finish what voi started. Except he couldn’t, there was no one to run to, no one to cry out for, there was no one to help him.

  Zim's eyes narrowed and all Dib could do in response was face away from him and try distorts best to not start sobbing. Star could hear segmented limbs shifting, and rustling of fabric, albeit all were muffled.

  “My precious Minimousse suggested this ludicrous idea that–” Zim's voice was beginning to muddle and cut out, his loud obnoxious voice hurting Dib’s already harmed antennae. “--so of course, I objected but–” distort couldn’t think straight anymore, everything just felt like flying colors that didn’t make sense. “--stupid, stupid… Regardless, I am here via force — a better pair of — replacement as an ‘apology’ — your fault, by the way.” It seemed that voix stupid rant finally ended, and the feeling of floating away slowly rose again.

  Dib was jolted into reality when Zim grabbed onto what was left of stars cloak and snarled, “LISTEN TO ME!! For once — worthless existence!” water flooded Dib’s vision, a noticeable pain ringing throughout his body. “Don’t just cry you pathetic maggot! Zim has — you don’t deserve.” Words didn’t make sense again, everything felt fuzzy. Distort was so painfully awake yet drifting away into unconsciousness, the only thing keeping the moth awake was the yelling, the disgusting scent, and the claws digging into stars raw shell.

  His shell was raw because of Zim, Dib loosely connected. The blurry memories made more sense, the greens and pinks, the sharp sting of pain, all of it was Zim.

  Why did Zim keep saying it was Dib’s fault? Was it even stars dad that helped him? Was this real?

  Questions upon questions cobbled up inside the masked moth’s head, distorts consciousness waning dangerously. The yelling got louder, and claws dug deeper, but it was all shapes now. Zim being only little triangles of greens, blacks, and pinks, the unpleasant smell had a look to it besides Zim, it was spiky with deep reds and fleshy pinks adorned with black surrounding the moth in waves. Above voix was a bright, broken glass-like structure, noise emitting from the green moth only added to the cracks.

  Star felt like a mere cloud, a shapeless wandering form.

  Although passing out in front of your enemy –one that almost successfully killed you no less– was a bad idea, it wasn’t like Dib had much of a choice anyway.